Pitching Agents & Publishers

fountain pen on notepad

Yes­ter­day I went to a ses­sion put on by Dias­po­ra Dia­logue on the top­ic of pitch­ing your work to agents and pub­lish­ers.

I had assumed that the for­mat would be a pre­sen­ta­tion style, but when I arrived I dis­cov­ered it was more a round table for­mat, with the four agents and pub­lish­ers answer­ing ques­tions from the room.

I did­n’t have any spe­cif­ic ques­tions ready, but that was okay, because the oth­ers in the room asked about sev­er­al top­ics of inter­est to me.

Tran­scribed below are my notes from the event.

General notes on pitching

  • Your man­u­script (MS) should be as pol­ished as pos­si­ble
  • It’s okay to change from your 1st draft [note: I assume it’s gen­er­al­ly nec­es­sary to change from your 1st draft]
  • It’s bet­ter to have an agent when try­ing to sell a book-length piece

Benefits of having an agent

  • First and fore­most: their con­tact lists
  • Agents will work close­ly with the author, pro­vid­ing anoth­er set of (expert) eyes on a MS
  • the Big 5 pub­lish­ers (Hachette, Harper­Collins, Macmil­lan, Pen­guin Ran­dom House, and Simon and Schus­ter) gen­er­al­ly require agent­ed sub­mis­sions
  • Agents will know what the edi­tors at the var­i­ous pub­lish­ers are look­ing for; those edi­tors trust the agents
  • Some pub­lish­ers (usu­al­ly small press­es) will accept una­gent­ed sub­mis­sions
  • Agents are also good at read­ing con­tracts for the author [the cur­rent brouha­ha sur­round­ing ChiZine Press was men­tioned]
  • Agents can be “author’s ther­a­pists” and will go to bat for their authors
  • Agents are also able to bro­ker inter­na­tion­al sales

What will help with pitching & proposals?

  • Most impor­tant: the con­tents of the MS
  • Also impor­tant: MS comps (ie, com­par­a­tive titles; titles you hope to be com­pared to)
  • Pub­li­ca­tions in the short sto­ry mar­kets can help, because they offer a track record
  • Know your book
  • Know the pub­lish­ers or agents you’re pitch­ing to (do your research; have names; or at the very least don’t use “Dear Sirs” in your cor­re­spon­dence)
  • Bio: the more your work has been pub­lished, the bet­ter
  • Book descrip­tion: think in terms of jack­et copy (ie, one page at most)
  • Don’t be afraid to name-drop your friends in the indus­try, espe­cial­ly if they’re will­ing to blurb for you
  • Don’t over­sell your book (it’s not, eg, “more con­tro­ver­sial than the Bible”)
  • Ensure that you address the cor­rect per­son in your pitch
  • Aim for 85,00090,000 words for a 1st MS [note: it was­n’t clear if this was a gen­er­al rule or a lit-fic guide­line; I’ve heard 90,000120,000 for spec fic]

How important is an author’s “platform”?

  • By “plat­form” we mean social media pres­ence and web­site
  • Con­sen­sus: if it’s not some­thing you’re good at, or not some­thing you’re inter­est­ed in, then don’t do it
  • Goodreads: meh (no agent or pub­lish­er present felt that an author’s Goodreads pres­ence would sway them one way or the oth­er)

What are agents looking for?

  • You don’t need to be pre­vi­ous­ly pub­lished to get an agent
  • Agents look for unique voice: ener­getic and entic­ing

How long does the process take?

  • Gen­er­al­ly it’s at least 1½ years from pitch to books on shelves, but can be longer

Some themes & references

Aurora Borealis at Minnedosa, MB

Here’s an incom­plete list of the themes and ref­er­ences that I’m con­scious­ly includ­ing in my new short sto­ry, “Sum­mer­time in the Void” (1st draft com­plete, work­ing on the 2nd draft):

The best bad news

fountain pen on notepad

I recent­ly had a look at my sub­mis­sions on The Sub­mis­sions Grinder, and noticed that I’d sent “Me and the Bee” to two mar­kets over a year ago, with no updates. I emailed the both of them, and one of them replied to me:

Our edi­to­r­i­al team real­ly enjoyed your sto­ry, and we were hold­ing onto it for a while as we fig­ured out our plans for our next issue. Unfor­tu­nate­ly we’re now on hia­tus as we have decid­ed to restruc­ture our jour­nal. I’m sor­ry again for this dis­ap­point­ing news, but I think your sto­ry is very strong and has a good chance of being accept­ed else­where.

So… it’s not accept­ed, but it almost was, I guess. So close.

Pho­to by Aaron Bur­den on Unsplash.

Tonight’s writing

The river

I ham­mered out 1,100 words, give or take, in “Sum­mer­time in the Void”, which is a new short sto­ry about a man left behind by the Sin­gu­lar­i­ty.

Here’s a sam­ple, but be kind, it’s first draft mate­r­i­al:

His dad, not long before he left, had told John that you can’t ever cross the same riv­er twice, and John had asked why not and his dad had just smiled and told him “You’re smart, fig­ure it out.”

Because the water’s nev­er the same, he decid­ed. Some­times it’s swift and deep, and sometimes—like now, after a long, hot, dry summer—it was shal­low, lazy, and mud­dy.

I’ve got about 3,900 more words to make this into a coher­ent sto­ry. I think I can make it work.

Writing Retreat, Day 6

The Milky Way

Sat­ur­day, I:

  • wrote my 2,000 words in two stints;
  • crossed the 100,000-word mark in my nov­el;
  • debat­ed chang­ing the title from Trans­la­tions to Reflec­tion, Trans­la­tion, Inva­sion (which is a not-com­plete­ly-inac­cu­rate sum­ma­ry of the sto­ry, at a very high lev­el);
  • turned on the air con­di­tion­ing, because it was get­ting pret­ty hot;
  • bor­rowed the neigh­bours’ kayak and pad­dled on the lake for a half-hour or so right at sun­set;
  • went and got some more pho­tos of the Milky Way and (serendip­i­tous­ly) the Auro­ra Bore­alis.

Can I help you with some­thing?” Head­less man­nequins wore flim­sy cot­ton dress­es in earth tones. Coun­ter­top racks dis­played neack­laces and bracelets made of beads, pearls, or smooth and pol­ished stones. A sign at the back said RESTROOMS FOR PAYING CUSTOMERS ONLY.

I need a wash­room,” I said.

She motioned at the sign.

No, I need a wash­room.”

She sighed, though I couldn’t tell whether she was exas­per­at­ed with me or with the sit­u­a­tion I was evi­dent­ly try­ing to put her in. “Pol­i­cy,” she said. Then, giv­ing me a good look­ing-over, she said, much more qui­et­ly, “You okay?”

Yes, I want­ed to say.

No.”

From Trans­la­tions
Con­tin­ue read­ing “Writ­ing Retreat, Day 6

Series: Writing Retreat 2019

The entire series: Writ­ing Retreat 2019; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 1; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 2; Writ­ing Retreat: Days 3 through 5; Writ­ing Retreat, Day 6.

Writing Retreat: Days 3 through 5

Clouds above the field

It seems I’m a bit behind on the ol’ posts. Here’s a quick recap of Wednes­day to Fri­day:

  • wrote a bunch of words, though I’m a bit behind my goal;
  • went on a cou­ple quick bike rides, includ­ing one up the hill to the grave­yard (where I was tempt­ed to lie down, just for a moment, because that’s quite the hill) and the obser­va­tion tow­er;
  • con­tem­plat­ed going kayak­ing but decid­ed I was over­heat­ed, so went swim­ming instead to cool down;
  • drove to Win­nipeg for my nephew’s 19th birth­day;
  • also went up to Clear Lake to vis­it my friend Tim;
  • and went out again on Fri­day night to attempt some Milky Way shots.
Con­tin­ue read­ing “Writ­ing Retreat: Days 3 through 5

Series: Writing Retreat 2019

The entire series: Writ­ing Retreat 2019; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 1; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 2; Writ­ing Retreat: Days 3 through 5; Writ­ing Retreat, Day 6.

Writing Retreat 2019, Day 2

Star trails -- about 100 images, 30 seconds each

On Tues­day, I:

  • wrote 2,000 more words in two shifts, morn­ing and evening;
  • read about ⅓ of Drey­er’s Eng­lish, chortling all the while;
  • went for a 3.5km kayak ride on the lake;
  • did a quick 5km bike ride to the cof­fee shop and to Co-op for gro­ceries;
  • and went back out for some more astropho­tog­ra­phy, this time in the riv­er val­ley to the north.

Here’s a quick sam­ple of the writ­ing so far (still 1st draft):

Your nose is bro­ken, she’d said. I reached up and touched it, gin­ger­ly, expect­ing pain. Instead it felt cold and numb. Touch­ing it felt like I was touch­ing some­one else’s nose. Like it was made of wax.

I felt a thin strip of met­al or met­al-like plas­tic that ran from between my eye­brows down the bridge of my nose to its tip. I tried to lift it off, to pry a nail under it, but couldn’t. It was like it was a part of me. Maybe it was a part of me now.

You’ve been con­cussed. That part I didn’t need to check to believe. I remem­bered the headache, the nau­sea that nev­er quite went away and nev­er quite resolved into actu­al vom­it­ing. When I lay down on the bed, the room seemed to shiv­er and spin, slow­ly, an orbit that I didn’t like.

From Trans­la­tions, 1st draft
Con­tin­ue read­ing “Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 2

Series: Writing Retreat 2019

The entire series: Writ­ing Retreat 2019; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 1; Writ­ing Retreat 2019, Day 2; Writ­ing Retreat: Days 3 through 5; Writ­ing Retreat, Day 6.